


Fighting My Way Back

by Lynge



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Bear School (The Witcher), Bipolar Aiden (The Witcher), Canon-Typical Violence, Cat School (The Witcher), F/M, Female Witcher, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Knitting, Light Angst, Mentioned Guxart (The Witcher), Mentioned Vesemir (The Witcher), Minor Gender Dysphoria, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Past Relationship(s), Rating May Change, Trans Aiden (The Witcher)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26955769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lynge/pseuds/Lynge
Summary: How Aiden met Yura during the cat's misguided adventure on Skellige.Sliding down the wall, he looked in the empty eye sockets of a skull that had probably once belonged to a proud Skellige warrior. Aiden tried to stand up, but couldn’t get his legs to obey. It hadn’t been the wall that shattered. It was his back. He knew right then that he was not going to survive this fight. He was cornered, and the giant advanced menacingly.This story takes place roughly sixty yearsbeforeI'm Stuck With These ChucklefucksandAiden meets Lambert in Toussaint.Yura is my OC female witcher. She belongs to the Bear School and has been living on Undvik for the past eleven years.
Relationships: Aiden (The Witcher) & Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 33
Kudos: 12
Collections: Witcher Rarepair Discord Collection





	1. Toxicity

**Author's Note:**

> CW for chapter 1:  
> \- Trans male character  
> \- Violence & fighting  
> \- Near-death experience  
> \- Semi-graphic description of injuries  
> 

It all started well enough. Aiden had planned out the attack—which he rarely did—and coated his silver haladie in ogroid oil. After that, he drank the decoctions he knew would give him the sharpest edge. He felt his stomach heave in protest after downing the last vial—taking the maximum amount of potions his body could tolerate always made him queasy. Spitting some bile on the floor, he knew he had to hit fast with this target.

It was just a simple case of sneaking up to the sleeping Ice Giant and severing the vulnerable arteries in its neck. Aiden was careful in his approach, his pulse low, and steps light. Creeping up to the giant, Aiden saw the headdress it was wearing. Two giant stags functioned as antlers for the creature. Not just the antlers. The giant had two _actual stag skeletons_ tied to his forehead. It looked equally ridiculous and terrifying. Raising his haladie, Aiden almost felt sorry for the giant. At least the monster wouldn’t suffer long.

The moment Aiden’s blade slashed down, the giant turned its head and bellowed. Chunks of its last meal and saliva sprayed Aiden’s face. He felt his heartbeat speed up as he smelled the acrid stench coming from its throat. Aiden lost his concentration, and his blade missed the ogroid completely.

He was too slow dodging the incoming attack. A large deformed anchor on a chain hit Aiden in the ribs and lifted him off the floor. The chunk of mangled steel propelled him towards the wall, and he felt the impact shatter the granite behind him.

Sliding down the wall, he looked in the empty eye sockets of a skull that had probably once belonged to a proud Skellige warrior. Aiden tried to stand up, but couldn’t get his legs to obey. It hadn’t been the wall that shattered. It was his back. He knew right then that he was not going to survive this fight. He was cornered, and the giant advanced menacingly.

As the toxins were raging through Aiden’s body, he could see the thick black veins on his arms bulge with how his body tried to burn through the poisons. His eyes were blown out to monstrous proportions, fully transformed into pools of darkness. He felt the maniacal grin fueled by bloodlust plastered on his face.

With a shallow cough, Aiden tasted blood in the back of his throat. His breathing labored, and lungs ablaze, he had only two choices: Accept his fate and die, or take White Raffard to restore some vitality, and hopefully last long enough to kill the giant. The outcome was the same since his bloodstream’s toxicity would eventually kill him. But at least that meant he’d won.

No one would know which choice he’d made until they stumbled over his corpse in a few years. A weathered husk, with armor rotting off the bones. His life cut short. With a smothered cackle, pink foam bubbled out of his mouth. Guxart always warned him to stay clear of Skellige, saying the island would eat cats alive. _Fuck the bastard for being right about something. Again._

The giant pulled the anchor out of the wall, raining stones and dirt down onto Aiden. It charged as Aiden reached for the flask of White Raffard. He felt the liquid burn a trail in his throat, down to his stomach. He doubled over in agony, feeling the energy humming through his veins. It sang a discouraging song. The severity of his wounds meant that the White Raffard was not going to be enough, not by a long shot. Just before his senses gave out with a prismatic explosion of light and sound, he felt his body collapse on the cave floor.

He smiled as he made peace with his final thought: _At least I’m going out like a man._

—

“Put him down, Hjort! Remember our deal.” Yura’s voice boomed through the cavern just before she rounded the corner and skidded to a halt on the frozen floor, seeing how the giant picked up a limp figure.

She had been training the giant for years. Training was probably not exactly the right word. Bargaining? Yes, she had been bargaining with the giant for years. When Yura settled here eleven years ago, it had been the first contract the villagers hired her to fulfill. The giant had been a menace to the island that housed its cave.

Ice giants were prickly bastards. They were mostly solitary creatures, who slept a lot, and sporadically went for a stroll to replenish their food source. That was what had been the villagers’ issue since the main resource would be their cattle or their children more often than not. To Yura’s surprise, the villagers seemed more annoyed with cattle disappearance than children. One village man explained that cattle have to be bought; they could replace children for free.

In any case, eleven years ago, she walked into the cave, ready to kill the giant. When it turned out that the ice giant wasn’t actually all that bad. Yura managed to puzzle together that the giant used to be alone on the island until the humans settled. In its guttural grunting language, it explained that humans had started to hunt the animals on the island. Which meant the ice giant rapidly ran out of their food sources. The giant used to ensure that enough wildlife survived to keep the various species thriving on the island. The humans had either killed or domesticated them. So what else was it to do?

She struck a deal with the giant. It would no longer hunt for its meals; Instead, Yura made sure to feed it every fortnight with game meat from around the island she’d collected from the villagers. She even sneaked in some vegetables whenever she could. Even monsters deserved a varied diet, right? Whenever the ice giant wanted to go for a stroll, she accompanied it to make sure no villagers would bother it. The alliance had worked for eleven peaceful years, in which the giant had been left alone and the village didn’t lose any cattle or family members.

During that time, it had also learned how to communicate their needs, so everything was going pretty damn well in Yura’s opinion.

Until whoever had strolled in today to leave their corpse behind. In what Yura could only assume was a fit of self-destruction or sheer stupidity. _Probably both._

She shook her head as she looked up at the giant. “Friend, I’m asking you again, put down the body. I have brought you food, and even have some cake with me.” She saw the giant hesitate and lower the limp body, placing it on the floor in front of Yura.

The giant grunted a question. Yura looked up at it with her brown and green eyes. “Yes, chocolate cake. Don’t touch this poor bastard, and I’ll go get it for you, okay?”

He rumbled an affirmation, as Yura walked back towards the hallway. Parked there was a large wheelbarrow, filled with assorted meats, bread, and indeed, a whole chocolate cake.

Pushing the wheelbarrow into the cavern, she addressed the giant again. “I’m pretty sure this meal will taste better than whatever idiot you’ve smashed against the wall—I’ll take care of the body.”

She walked over to the leather-clad body and quickly dragged it up from the floor. It still looked intact, and now that she could see the body, she realized it was a young-looking man. He had strawberry blonde hair, black veins standing out on his pale skin. _A witcher?!_

Her heart stopped for a moment when she saw the medallion around his neck. And right when hers skipped a beat, she felt the cat’s heart give a weak thump. She carefully scooped up the body and got out of the cave as fast as possible.


	2. Parts Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aiden goes through a bodily version of hell.  
> Yura revisits one of the heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW:  
> \- Descriptions of pain (both physical and emotional).

Aiden did not believe in life after death. After all; _if it’s life after death, doesn’t that defeat the meaning of death altogether?_ In any case, he was aware of thinking about these things. Which meant, by logical deduction, that he wasn’t dead. Yet.

His brain was foggy. There was no point in commanding his body to do anything right now. It would only be overridden by the pain raging through his entire body. Even his shallow breaths hurt—a lot. So much so that he couldn’t sense where the throbbing started, and if it even ended anywhere.

A bitter taste in his mouth, trickling down into his throat, made Aiden swallow involuntarily. It reminded him of stale blood and dried out corpses. He was pulled under by a current of hot marbles flying outward through his body. Starting in his bones, ripping through muscles, tearing apart his nerves, the pain bounced off the inside of his skin. The agony doubled as it ricocheted through his body. Before he could make a sound, everything went black.

—

When he woke up for the second time, Aiden wished he was dead, which _could_ be considered a slight improvement. The pain was harrowing. His mind wouldn’t focus long enough on anything. To top it all off, sounds were amplified, and it felt like a horde of Shaelmaar were dancing the polka on his head. If this was the afterlife, Aiden wanted none of it.

A disturbing sound reverberated through him, making his bones vibrate at a frequency that felt like it could break glass. Before he lost consciousness again, Aiden realized it was purring. The noise was coming from his own throat.

—

Tears were falling down his cheeks when he woke up for the third time. The pain was still there and burned through all of his limbs. However, he realized he was now actually _feeling_ the injuries. Granted, the pinpoint precision led him to conclude the pain was _everywhere_ , but when he tried to focus on specific areas, he could sense that parts of him were healing up. Tears rolled from his eyes when he realized he could feel his legs again.

“Welcome back.” A low murmur came from a voice near his head. “Almost thought I lost another cat.” It carried a melancholy tone.

“My name is Yura. You are safe here, don’t try to move just yet if you can help it.” The voice was soft, but clear. “You’ve broken quite a few bones during your suicidal stunt, and I fear you will be leaving Skellige with some new scars on your hide. I can’t say for certain if all of your insides are still in the right place. Stay down if you can.”

Aiden tried to open his eyes, though it was futile. As soon as he managed to get the lid of one eye open, even a sliver, his surroundings’ brightness overwhelmed him.

He heard a shuffling sound next to his head; it sounded deafening, and he wanted it to stop. Aiden could also hear that annoying vibrating whine again. _Oh, wait, that’s me._

“Can you open your mouth a little for me? I need you to drink. You’ve been out cold for days, and if your body doesn’t get any liquids, it will start shutting down. Which means I wasted all my effort on you.”

He tried to comply. His lips were sticking together, and Aiden couldn’t get his jaw to move far enough for his lips to part. He felt something soft, cold, and wet dabbing onto his lips.

“The voice—Yura, their name was Yura—whispered, “try again, I’ve wet your lips. They should open now.”

On his second attempt, Aiden got his lips to part ever so slightly. The purring became louder, and he willed himself into stopping the noise, which worked as long as he concentrated on it. He felt some drops of water land on and around his mouth. It startled him.

As if they read his mind, Yura whispered again, “Calm down. I’m soaking a cloth in water and wringing it out over your mouth so you can get some water into you. Stop fighting the purring. Your body needs it to speed up the healing process. It’s a cat thing.” He felt a soft hand on the side of his jaw; the light touch was comforting.

Keeping his lips parted, Aiden had no other choice than accept the drops of water Yura was giving him. It did feel refreshing, and he felt the droplets gather on his tongue and glide down towards his throat. After only a hand full of drops, it stopped, and he swallowed.

It hurt, it hurt so gods damned much that he felt tears sliding from the corners of his eyes again. It was as if someone was forcing needles down his throat. He was surprised that he didn’t taste fresh blood in his mouth from the grating feeling.

“It will get easier,” Yura continued, “Your throat has been dry, save the few potions I could get into you while you were unconscious. And I fear those are not known for their lubricating properties.” More water droplets fell between Aiden’s lips, and he swallowed again. The burning sensation was still there, but Yura was right; the liquid started to go down smoother.

Around the fifth round of drops, Aiden only felt a scratchy sensation in his throat when he swallowed. It was painful but bearable. Yura encouraged him with every swallow as if he was a child. It annoyed him and made him impatient. But he was about as helpless as a newborn right now. The fact that his fate was in the hands of a disembodied voice did nothing to soothe his anxiety.

After about ten swallows of water, the drops stopped. Yura continued speaking, “I’m going to wake you every hour or two, getting more water in you, for now, have a rest.” Aiden could hear a soft clicking sound come from the direction of the voice. Focussing on the cadence, he felt the purring start in his throat again and drifted back to sleep.

—

Staring into the middle distance, Yura felt the knitting needles fly in her hands. After almost two hundred years of practice, she didn’t have to look at what she was doing. The rhythmic clicking of the needles, combined with the purring of the witcher, made her think of another cat she had in her bed a good century ago.

When she picked up the witcher in the ice giant’s cave and saw the cat school medallion, time stopped. Seeing the witcher fighting for their life in her bed, she knew the cat school must still be active. After cutting them out of their armor to treat their injuries, she wondered if this child had been given a choice or just the _illusion_ of one. Knowing the cat school, she feared the latter.

Her heart was also aching for the only two men she’d ever loved. The barely breathing witcher showing up had ripped open a wound she thought had healed by now. That _should_ have been healed by now. Yura sighed as she tried to accept that this scar would probably stay fresh for the rest of her life.

The strife between the Cat and Wolf schools created a divide in the relationship she’d had with Vesemir and Guxart. A gap that Yura just couldn’t bridge, not without breaking in half. She had tried, desperately, to keep them together after the tournament massacre.

Getting her men out of Radowit’s dungeons had been relatively straightforward. The cat and the wolf joked that she had probably just walked in, swung her hammer, and that was the end of it. In reality, it took her much more than one swing to get her lovers out of captivity.

Quite a few of Radowit’s men didn’t come home that evening. Yura, on the other hand, had woken up at night in terror more than once after that day, feeling the berserker rage take her over again.

She woke up bathed in sweat night after night, always finding one of the witchers next to her. Holding her and telling her she was okay; she was safe. They all were. There were moments where Yura doubted they were repeating this for her sake. If anything, she guessed, they were reciting it in the hope of believing it themselves.

Once her nightmares lessened, Vesemir and Guxart had more room to deal with what transpired at the tournament. It started with snide comments and soon turned into arguments. Yura knew that the following steps would lead to resentment. She loved them more than anything and was unwilling to see them both crack as they refused to acknowledge their culpability in the coup.

The reason they were unable to stop blaming themselves for the massacre was simple. Love for each other, and Yura, had made the men blind and gave Treyse the chance to scheme with Radowit in ridding himself of the wolves.

Guxart blamed himself for not keeping an eye on his brethren and failing to see the school’s festering unrest, which ultimately led to their betrayal.

With the wolf school decimated, Vesemir was torn between mourning the dead and riding out to Stygga to run a sword through Treyse.

Yura had seen no other option than to break their hearts. All three of them. Staying together would lead to more pain than she thought any of them were strong enough to handle. So she told them she was going back to Skellige. Alone. And warned them only to set foot on the islands if they were ready to welcome death.

Guxart had ridden out of Kaer Morhen in a fit of rage after that. Yura left in the morning, heading to Novigrad for a ship to Skellige. Vesemir had stayed at the keep. Or so Yura assumed since she hadn’t heard or seen the wolf since the day she left the mainland.

Yura returned to Skellige a broken woman. She offered her services to the islands’ ruling clan and worked alongside the Skellige warriors stationed at Castle Tuirseach.

Kill some drowners here, solve a curse there. Help some farmers with infestations while indulging in mundane distractions like gambling, alcohol, and getting in too many fistfights to count.

It did nothing to fill the empty void where she felt her heart once was.


	3. Needles(s)

When Aiden opened his eyes again, they finally stayed open. It felt like weeks had passed, but he guessed it was closer to a few days. _I haven't shuffled off this mortal coil just yet._ He felt a manic giggle tickle his throat.

He wanted to know where he was, who Yura exactly was, and what the hell had happened after drinking the White Raffard. 

Aiden let his eyes adjust to the low light in the room. He vaguely saw a figure sitting in a chair across the room from him. The imposing woman—Yura, he remembered—had fallen asleep on it. Aiden tried to move his neck to take in more of his surroundings but found himself unable to move. 

Panic spiked in his belly. The muscles in his body seemed unwilling to work with him. They weren't obeying the commands of his mind, and he felt his heart speed up. 

"Stop straining against it. You've hurt close to half your body," the sleepy voice of Yura mumbled, followed by a yawn. "I had to give you something to relax all your muscles and tendons so I could set the breaks; that's why you can't move." 

Aiden narrowed his eyes as he heard the chair creak. He guessed Yura had gotten up and was heading to the surface he laid on. When she bent over to look at him, Aiden noticed a set of unnerving eyes. The centers of Yura’s irises were brown, the outside rim an emerald green. More shocking than the dual-colored eyes were the pupils. 

Yura had the catlike eyes of a witcher.

"Yes, I'm one of yours—Bear School. You've probably been told we're gone, but here I am, the last woman standing." She smirked, and Aiden saw the silver bear's head medallion around her neck swing into view as she leaned over. "Lucky for you too, because dying from a perforated lung while a giant uses you to decorate their wall is not a pretty way to go." 

"Hwodiyufime?" Aiden mumbled. It took him all his concentration to produce the sounds, and he wasn't even sure if she could understand him. Hell, he wasn't even sure _he_ knew what he was trying to say.

"You're asking me how I found you? Blink once for yes, twice for no." 

Aiden blinked once.

"The giant you attacked is a...friend of sorts. He is a peaceful creature most of the time." Yura crossed her arms over her chest. "Unless you sneak into his house and try to stab him in the back while he's sleeping, of course." 

"Now, what I'm curious about is who put out a contract on Hjort. He's been living on the island in peace for the past eleven years, and the nearby villagers wouldn't hurt him, not while I'm around." The Bear lowered her face to Aiden's. He felt her breath ghost over his face. "So I'd like to know who sent you after him. Was it someone from the island?"

 _That will be a hard one to explain without using words._ Aiden blinked twice because; no, he hadn't been after the giant on a contract. He had tracked the beast to its cave for, well, fun. 

When he reached Ard Skellig, someone told him about the Ice Giant of Undvik and how people saw it roaming the island from time to time. The villagers didn't feel the need to clear the monster out, which intrigued Aiden. Once he got to Undvik, he tracked down the local notice boards, confirming a lack of contracts on the beast. 

Monster is a monster, though, and he was there anyway. If he could take care of this issue for them, there was sure to be some coin in it, right? 

He'd traced the giant to its cave and prepared his attack. That's when everything went to shit.

Yura continued, "No one on Undvik hired you?" Aiden blinked once to let her know that no one had hired him to kill the giant, who was apparently a _buddy_ of this bear witcher. 

Who, by the way, shouldn't even be here. _Weren't all bears dead?_

He heard her sigh, "I don't think we'll get anywhere until you can speak again. Hjort broke your jaw in the scuffle. It should have healed by now, but the muscle relaxants are still in your bloodstream." She was messing about with something next to his head, which he realized was a leather strap, keeping his forehead in place. He could smell the rise of his anxiety.

"Next to having your muscles and tendons relax, I needed a way to keep your bones in the right position while they healed. You're tied down to this table right now. Don't worry; I'm not going to insult your decency." She chuckled as she walked back towards the chair and plopped down.

"I had to take your armor and all of your clothes off before I could treat you." She allowed for a small pause before continuing. "Nothing I haven't seen before. The most important thing right now is that your bones heal in the right position. I'll hold off from giving you a muscle relaxant, so we can see if you're fit to speak in a few hours." 

At this point, the pain in Aiden's body had turned into a dull ache with the occasional stab. Nothing he couldn't handle. The worst part was the fatigue he felt in his limbs. Heavy tiredness weighing him down.

—

Yura racked her brain on who would want to kill Hjort. If nobody on Undvik put a contract on the giant, Yura couldn't figure out who else would be interested in eliminating it. 

In general, it made no sense to her that a witcher would fight a monster without being hired to do so. Unless it was self-defense, and from what Yura gathered of the fight in the cave, the first blow did not come from Hjort. 

In the past thirty years, Yura hadn't heard of any of the cats setting foot on the isles. After she started working for the clans on the archipelago, she made deals with each of them. She would keep them informed of the surrounding area's goings-on and keep an eye, or warhammer if needed, on the monsters roaming the islands. In return, the clans told her whenever witchers came to Skellige. There had been a few over the decades, never of the feline school, though. 

The young witcher being here felt…off. Why would the cat attack an ice giant by himself? Was he suicidal, or just genuinely stupid? 

She wanted answers, and by not administering the muscle relaxant yet, she calculated that he should be able to verbalize his thoughts. Provided everything worked the way it should.

"You may be able to speak again soon. Just give it a try now and then, but don't force it, okay?"

Yura gave the cat enough water to cool his system. It also forced him to use his mouth. Aiden interspersed drinking with attempts at making sounds, which in the beginning were still haphazardly strung together. They started to sound more like single words as time went by. 

After about an hour, he sounded raspy and labored, his breaths coming in gasps.

"Aiden, my name is Aiden," the witcher whispered. 

"Thank you—inhale—for saving me." he exhaled shallowly, "you may regret it."

Yura narrowed her eyes. "There is no contract on Hjort, is there?"

The man, Aiden, closed his eyes and breathed out the next sentence, "No contract"—inhale—"I was bored"—exhale.

Yura shook her head. "I would like to say this is a surprise, but I know your school tends to stab first and communicate...well, never." She heard the resentment in her voice.

"Your boredom nearly killed you, Aiden." She folded her hands over her chest and turned her back on him. "I'm not letting you die, though; too much effort has gone into keeping you alive. I will help you back on your feet, which are one of the few things you haven't broken."

Aiden swallowed audibly. "Thank you—" 

Yura cut him off and turned to Aiden, "That is _if_ you swear you will not attack anything unless it deserves a blade to its neck." She stared daggers at him, driving home the fact that there was no negotiating on this.

Yura knew cats. She knew how to handle them. Usually, that meant with gloves, but once they'd gone too far, a stern talking to and clear boundaries did the trick. Even Guxart wasn't immune to the commanding voice she used to make her point. 

Moving the chair from its place near the hearth to sit next to Aiden, Yura settled down. She picked up her knitting and glanced over his healing body. "Get some rest. When you wake up, you should be able to move." The soft, rhythmic clicking of her knitting needles was soothing, and in no time, she heard Aiden’s breathing even out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Gestures at the state of the world._ I'll be using that as an excuse for why it's going slow on my end.  
> I rewrote this chapter a few times, in order to have it make more sense, I hope I got there in the end, because I'm really looking forward to the chapters that come _after_ this one.
> 
> As always: Feed me with your kudos and comments. They're a little spark of light in these dark December days.


	4. Parts Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aiden finally gets to hear how bad his injuries were.

Aiden carefully tried to move his neck. The leather belt on his forehead still held his head in place, but he felt the muscles strain. He was pretty sure he had mobility in his neck back. 

Yura wasn't on the chair next to him. Actually, he couldn't see her at all from where he was lying. Focusing on his breathing, _at least that was getting easier._ He realized smaller breaths worked better than trying to inhale all the oxygen in the room at once. 

There was a tingling sensation crawling along his spine. Probably a good thing, seeing as his back was the one thing he was sure of being broken in the fight. Yura had warned him about the state of his body. 

Aiden heard the creaking of hinges and felt a cold draft coming from the other end of the room. _Probably a door to the outside then._ He started mapping out the cabin in his mind. 

Yura strode into the room with her arms full of firewood. She was wearing a padded, long, black gambeson. Warm enough to keep the elements out while still allowing her to move around quickly.

"Ah, you're awake." After stacking the wood next to the fireplace, Yura took off her gambeson and placed it next to the hearth. She walked over to Aiden and checked the leather strap on his forehead. "I think we can loosen this strap. Please don't overdo it, though. I'm not above strapping you down again if you're straining yourself too much."

The pressure on his forehead lessened, and he carefully turned his head to the side. He let out a sigh of relief. He could move his head. _Thank the sun for small favors._

Yura sat down in the chair next to him. "Do you want to know what your body went through this past week?" 

Aiden stretched his neck slowly. "I'd like to know how bad it is." He closed his eyes and braced for the worst. "And if you think there is _any_ chance of me getting back on my feet. Ever." If he were broken beyond repair, he would end it all swiftly—enough cliffs on Skellige after all. He had to blink to get rid of the watery vision in his eyes.

Yura sighed, "I think you will. Get back on your feet, that is. It might take a while before you've healed enough to walk again, but you look like a stubborn enough guy to pull it off." 

He saw Yura reach under the chair, grabbing a basket with long needles and a light grey fabric. She adjusted her position on the chair and started knitting without looking at her hands. Aiden wondered if Yura had made the dark tunic she was wearing too. The fabric cascaded down from her broad shoulders and looked warm and comfortable. 

"So, what did I break? Feels like everything." Aiden turned his head far enough to look Yura in the eyes. He wanted to see her face. 

"Hjort got you good. I think the only reason you aren't dead is dumb luck. Nothing perforated your heart, and you had no head trauma worth mentioning. Save the fact that you'll go on in life with a slightly crooked nose, but that will only add to your mysterious witcher vibe." Aiden saw the half-smile on her face. It gave him a spark of hope that this would all turn out for the better. 

The knitting needles slowed down until they were utterly silent. "Your back was broken in three places, including the base of your neck. That's why I had to strap your head down. I don't think it was irreversibly damaged, and I managed to set the bones. Do you feel anything in that area?"

"It tingles, which is more than I felt in the cave. After I hit the wall, I didn't feel anything below my neck..." A shiver ran through Aiden as he remembered the sound of his spine crushing against the stone. "Everything is throbbing; I feel like a bruise made flesh." 

"Good, tingling is better than nothing." She nodded thoughtfully and offered Aiden a bowl of water, bringing it to his lips. He gladly sipped the liquid and swallowed. "And I see you can move your neck. I am hopeful that the other fractures in your back have healed by now too. Don't try to move it just yet. Give it a few more days until you don't ache as much." 

She continued her knitting, "I would feel better if we can get a physician or a mage to check you out."

Aiden nodded. "What else? I think my back was the biggest thing, but there's more, isn't there?"

"Your right fibula broke—that's a bone in your calf. I managed to set it, and there's a splint holding it in place. Your hip joint on that side popped out of the socket. Took me a bit of elbow grease to get that sucker back in place, and you'll probably have aching hips because of it for a few days."

Aiden let out a sigh, "Glad I wasn't here for that adventure." Though he didn't like the idea of being tended to by a stranger—even less when he wasn't mentally present—Aiden was thankful for the bear keeping him subdued for as much of it as possible. 

"So am I," Yura chuckled, "I have only once popped a joint back for someone before you, and that was a while ago. From what he told me then, my bedside manners needed work."

Aiden could imagine. Yura looked like a practical woman. Getting things done fast and thoroughly was probably favored over coddling. "So far, I don't have any complaints about your bedside manners. Any other fractures?"

"I'm not sure how you managed it, but the only thing that was wrong with your arms was a crack in your left forearm, which should be healed by now. I think you should regain use of your arms soon. Just try not to overdo it until we know your back is stable."

Feeling something light and warm rub against his fingers, Aiden realized it was Yura's hand, enveloping his. Her fingers were soft for a witcher, and the comforting touch made Aiden feel slightly more at ease. 

"The fight damaged your right lung, courtesy of a renegade rib." Yura gave his hand a little squeeze. "I had to cut you out of the bandages." She didn't comment that no injuries were warranting his chest being in bandages to begin with.

Aiden felt overly exposed and uncertain about how to handle this subject. No one had ever seen him without the bandages. Turning his head down, he saw slopes of body parts that didn't belong to him. His stomach churned with nausea, and he put in the effort to keep the water down.

Yura kept holding onto his hand, stroking his palm. "I told you, nothing I haven't seen. You don't have to talk about it. I set the rib and redressed the bandages. You can't wear them tightly for a few days." Her voice was soft, and she chose her words carefully. Aiden was glad she didn't push.

He needed a change of subject and gave her hand a soft squeeze. So far, it all sounded like broken bones and bruises to Aiden. Things which splints, potions, and rest would solve quickly enough." What else? Because if that's it, you wouldn't have kept me under for a week."

Yura hesitated for a moment before carrying on, "I...had to remove one of your kidneys." She fell silent. "The fall ruptured it, and the overdose of toxins raging through you made it impossible for the organ to heal. It was your kidney or your life." 

Aiden swallowed. Losing parts of his body was something he never thought of. Not when it came to necessary bits. He seemed to remember kidneys fitting into the vital organ category. "What exactly does that mean?" 

"Your kidneys are a filtration system. You were born with two of them, like most people." She paused. "Humans that lose a kidney will be fine. It means they have to adjust some of their habits and make sure they don't put too many toxins like alcohol or drugs in their body."

A feeling of dread crawled up Aiden's belly. "I'm not most humans, though." The sentence sounded more like a question than a statement. 

"No. You're not, nor am I. Many of the toxins you imbibe as a witcher get filtered out of your body through your kidneys." She sighed deeply, "I don't know if your body will compensate for the loss."

She continued, still holding on to Aiden's hand as she gave him the bad news. "That's why I kept you sedated through the bulk of the healing processes. Your tolerance for potions is lower right now. I'm unsure if it remains like that, we'll have to wait and see. You may have to learn to work with weaker potions or use less of them in the future."

"I won't die because of the kidney?" Aiden asked carefully. 

"Your reckless behavior will probably end you long before the other kidney gives out."

Aiden chuckled. "Ah, you know me already."

Yura patted Aiden's hand before getting up from her chair, "Not you specifically, Aiden, but I know your type. Stubborn men aren't new to me."

"Is that how you learned to fix broken witchers?" Aiden's voice followed Yura as she walked towards the hearth, a pot hanging above it.

She took the lid off and stirred through the broth pensively. Steam rose, and a strong salty smell filled the room. "You could say that." Yura poured in a generous amount of water, diluting the broth to the point that she hoped Aiden would be able to keep down. 

After placing the lid back and adding another log to the hearth, Yura walked over to the partially strapped down witcher. "I had to fix up a few witchers in my time. Sometimes it was their body, other times their mind. The druids on Skellige taught me a lot of the things I know. And when I was with the other bears in the Amell mountains, I just took to the role of the healer, so none of my brothers and sisters would have to leave the keep searching for one."

"It also meant I could mitigate some of the damage the mages did during the trials," she sat down in the chair next to Aiden's head, "I don't like seeing others suffer."

Aiden huffed out a breath. "Sounds useful. The only information on physicalities the older cats gave me was where to stab for maximum damage." He had a pained look on his face as he spoke. 

She shrugged and sat down in the chair. "That's how most of the schools work. I'm not going to pretend the bears are any better than the others. I just made a personal choice to learn about healing." 

It would take another few minutes for the food to heat up again. "I've made broth. Do you think your stomach can handle that?" 

"As long as you don't mind having to feed me like a helpless kitten." Aiden's voice had a slightly annoyed tone to it.

She smiled, "You don't like depending on others, do you?" It made sense to Yura that he wouldn't. Most cat school witchers she had known, one in particular, were autonomous creatures that shuddered at the thought of having to ask others for help. 

Aiden's sigh held exasperation. "I don't. My pride gets in the way."

"You may need to get over that, Aiden," Yura said while getting up and grabbing two bowls. Ladling the broth into the bowl, she decided to see how feeding Aiden would go before getting some herself. With the filled bowl, she made her way back to the bed. 

She felt Aiden's eyes follow her around the room and looked at him, gesturing with the bowl. "Ready to try?"

Aiden attempted to nod. It made Yura glad to see his motor skills coming back, and she guessed it wouldn't be long before he would be able to use his arms again.

He opened his mouth, and Yura dribbled some of the watery broth in, giving him enough time to swallow. After the second swallow of broth, Aiden looked at her. "So you save my life and feed me the best soup I've tasted in years. If I knew all people on Skellige were this kind, I would have ignored the warnings sooner."

Her brow furrowed, "I'll admit the isles can be a bit harsh if you're not used to it, but overall I think the people living here are kind folk. There's not that much danger here that isn't anywhere else in the world. As for the soup, it's not that hard. Just a basic recipe."

After taking another swallow of the soup, Aiden smiled at her. "It's just been ages since I tasted a good broth. It's funny; yours is very similar to what my old mentor would make when I got sick at Stygga before the trials."

Her movements stilled. "Same person that warned you to stay clear of Skellige?"

Aiden gave her a questioning look, "Yeah, Guxart used to be very clear about the isles. We were never to set foot on them if we valued our lives."

"Sounds like a smart witcher and a good cook. You're lucky to have those at Stygga." Yura focussed on not spilling the broth. 

"He was. Guxart was a smart man." The glimmer of moisture in Aiden's eyes matched the tear Yura felt roll down her cheek. 

Aiden spoke of Guxart in the past tense. 

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thanks to [@jackofallplagues](https://mobile.twitter.com/jackofplagues) for the beta-ing on this parade of pain.  
> Shout out to [Feral Bardling](https://twitter.com/FBardling) for letting me pick his brain about Bear School lore.  
> Hugs for sohydrated, who keeps cheering me on. 
> 
> _Comments & Kudo's are highly appreciated and fuel my writing boner._
> 
> \- There will be 10 - 12 chapters total that will be added at regular intervals  
> \- The rating _will_ change  
> \- Years and important milestones are ballparked and based on my own dinky calculations  
> \- This is probably canon divergent and that's the way I like my Witcher  
> \- Tags and CW's will be added/mentioned per chapter


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